Midnight marching madness

by Ralkkai

It was midnight marching madly
in empty asylums.

It was dead flowers
pressed against the cheeks of
children turning to
dust.

Today
the angels crept and the demons wept and catastrophe slept
in my head.

I spent too many hours
dying today
yet cancer seems to be
shy,
in dark rooms and under steel beds
like preposterous stories
of closed-minded prostitution.

Sick love hides well
to cover failing and broken hearts.
It tastes like suicide
in the wanton and gratuitous dreams,
the dreams that don’t seem worth waking from.

Yesterday is dead,
buried like so many tear-less memoirs
and lost like moonless nights.

People love like plagues on television
and burn out their souls like profanity
scraping dryly
across
the sorrowful skies
in senseless hopes that tomorrow will bring light
and today will fail to be another
half-healed wound.

I will die with my love
kept solemnly over my depreciating heart
and life will die with me
and the night will still have its shadows
and the whore will still have her bitter libido
and the ax will swing toward the mark.

I will die with my love
kept solemnly over my depreciating heart.
and when I die
the gods will laugh.

today
the angels
crept and
the demons
wept and
catastrophe slept
in my head.

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